


This Moment Will Just Be Another Story Someday

by kVader



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Arcades and bowling, Fluff, Fun, It's actually Wade, M/M, Meet-Cute, Not so strangers tho, Strangers to Lovers, When love calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kVader/pseuds/kVader
Summary: "He had planned the evening entirely different. Finally a peaceful evening, finally time to just relax for a few hours.But who could have predicted that a stranger wouldn't stop calling?And worse: who could have predicted he would have such a sweet, raspy voice?"~Spideypool Big Bang Prompt #35~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, this is my contribution as an author for the Big Bang 2018, prompt #35. 
> 
> I'm super grateful to my great team <3 the amazing artist for this story, you can see her perfect art [here](http://xeniawarriorprincesa.tumblr.com). Also my wonderful beta reader, who helped me a lot in such a long work, you can find them [here](https://deadspiderpool.tumblr.com) <3 
> 
> Both did a beautiful job, thank you! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

It’s times like these when you realize that the universe doesn’t care how tired you are, how many steps you had taken that day or how many lives you have saved. If life were fair, maybe chance would throw you a bone and let you enjoy a nice quiet evening, but no; fate has different plans for you. If only you can just give into the fatigue and fulfill that desire to throw your phone against the wall but that, unfortunately, is not how to get your bills paid.  


It's the fourth time his phone rings, Peter is crawling through the window of his apartment after a busy morning at work, and a night of patrol. Jameson probably wants Peter to send the pictures he had ordered since that morning, or maybe Mr. Stark wants the reports Peter promised to write the previous afternoon. Either one could wait for just " _two damn fucking minutes,”_  Peter growls under his breath.

  _At least let me close the window_ _,_ Peter thinks.  


The night is cold and the building's heater seems to have some problems, because Peter still can’t feel his feet. He needed to repair his suit, torn in several places where the wounds were visible; not even counting the ones that were still under the suit. Even worse, that he had that fight against a lizard under the city. Getting wet in the dirty sewers of New York, didn’t help the tremor in his body. The brunet closes the window and blows hot air into his gloved hands. The phone rings again and Peter sighs, taking off his mask and lifting the phone to his ear as he pours ground coffee into the coffee maker.   


"I'm about to finish, sir, don't worry."   


There is some kind of moan on the other side of the phone and Peter is sure it doesn't come from either Jameson or Tony. "I'm about to finish too, baby, how deep are you?"   


_Wait, what?_  


"Uhhhh," Peter pauses for a moment to think, because the conversation he had planned clearly doesn't apply in this situation.   


"I'm kidding, sorry I'm the worst for casual phone calls," says the other person on the other side of the phone, and Peter still has no idea what's happening. "Anyway, I was calling to add a couple of tacos and hot sauce to the order I ordered a few minutes ago. I just forgot to ask for extra sauce, and usually you guys forget that detail even when you claim to be the hottest junk food place in New York."   


Peter blinks several times, holding the coffee spoon in hand. "Um, I think you got the wrong number."   


"What?" The other person asks, while in the background several shots are heard, as if the guy was playing video games. "You sure? I'm pretty confident I called Taco Feliz."   


Peter looks around and shakes his head. "Nope, there's no happy taco here."   


"Hmm," there is a pause, and Peter decides that he should just hang up, because this is ridiculous, but the other man speaks again. "Are you sure?"   


Peter groans and rolls his eyes "Yes, man, I'm gonna hang up."   


"But-"   


Peter hangs up before the other person can finish his sentence, closing the lid of the tupperware, and connecting the coffee maker, so he can have something hot to drink when he gets out of the shower. Once this is done, Peter walks to his room, which is not really that far away. This is a small apartment after all, and he starts to remove the top of his suit, while looking for something comfortable and warm to sleep on.   


Then, his phone rings again.   


Peter looks at the screen in disbelief, the number in it is unknown and Peter is sure that this is no longer a coincidence. In a sigh, he answers again. "Who is this?"   


"The best thing to ever happen to you," the other person answers, and Peter recognizes the voice, because only a few minutes ago he was talking to that voice. The funny thing is that Peter doesn't even know who this person is.   


"You still have the wrong number," Peter answers, concise and curtly.   


"You sure?" The other questions, and Peter rolls his eyes, but before he can refute, the other keeps talking. "Because I'm sure I dialed the hot line, and your voice sounds pretty hot."   


Peter blushes immediately, he doesn't know exactly why, for a stranger to tell him these things is completely weird and wrong, but Peter blames the voice. There's something in the guy's voice, that deep, husky tone; and Peter immediately hates himself for thinking that, shaking his head and growling. "I don't have time for this, man."   


"I'm sorry, sorry-"  


Peter doesn't let him finish again and hangs up, looking up at the ceiling and demanding a divine explanation for what is happening. However, nothing happens, and Peter simply slides a hand over his face, sighing and taking his clothes and phone to move to the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and shudders from the cold.   


The mirror doesn't lie, and Peter cringes when he sees his tired, pale face. Although it shouldn't be a surprise, since it's a very well-known image to him. Then, his phone rings _again_.

 _Wow, really?_ Peter thinks, shaking his head.  


Peter knows that he should ignore it until the other person gets tired of calling, but for some strange reason Peter answers again, because he's sure there's some fault in that voice. "You know you're still wrong, right?"   


"I'm sorry," the other says, for once his tone is more serious, and Peter is sure that if he could see this person's face, he could catch a growing pout. "I'm terrible for conversations, and when I heard your cute voice somehow my brain collapsed and I began to say inappropriate things, as always, so I just called to apologize."   


First of all, Peter does not have a cute voice, okay? It's quite intimidating actually; and second, Peter didn't expect that, so for a moment he stays silent, processing every strange thing that has been going on that night. This was even stranger than having to stop a group of alien cows, and that's saying a lot.   


"It's okay," Peter says, clearing his throat, because he doesn't know what to say and he removes what's left of his suit. "I have to go, I’m about to take a shower anyway, so..."   


There is silence as an answer on the other side again, to what Peter assumes the guy has already hung up. So he shrugs and goes to put the phone aside, but hears a throat clearing and then "And you didn’t invite me over to join you?”

“Seriously? You had to go there?” Peter snorts irritated “What are you 12?”

“Why of course! Can’t you tell by my prepubescent voice?”

Peter doesn't stop him this time, and lets out a loud, snorty laugh as the guy hisses at the other side, because really, nothing makes sense tonight and with everything that has happened throughout Peter's day, this has been by far the most unusual.   


"Fuck, I'm sorry," the guy says, "You opened that door for me and I don't know how to stop."   


Peter sighs as fatigue and reality return to his body, making him groan and close his eyes. "Look, this has been entertaining, but I really need to take a bath, because the heater is not working very well in my apartment and the stupid shower only works at certain times of the day and I really need a hot bath, because I want to feel my fucking feet again."   


Peter stops to take a deep breath, amazed to have told all this to an complete stranger; even worse, to have shouted the problems of his life to someone who happened to have the wrong number. Peter can hear the guy moving uncomfortably on the other side, so Peter sighs, thinking how to apologize. _I don't sound so cute anymore, do I?_ he thinks.   


"I'm sorry that your damn apartment is a complete shit, kiddo," the guy responds, with a sympathetic tone and without a trace of mockery. "Whenever you want to, I can help you fix that stupid shower, and I don't mean that in a completely creepy way, honest."   


Peter chuckles, shaking his head and leaning against the bathroom door. "If I hang up now, will my phone ring again in the next few seconds?"   


The other chuckles and Peter swears he can feel the guy shrugging a shoulder. "I don't know, but I'm ready to try again," there is a pause in which all this person's insecurities can be heard through the phone. "I mean, if you are?"   


Peter laughs and blushes, he never thought his boring night with simple plans to watch a movie with just some coffee and candies, would end up like this. Then he sighs, more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago, and nods. "You have my number, when I get out of the shower maybe I'll think about it."   


The guy agrees with a simple "Good luck with the shower," and Peter hangs up, smiling and shaking his head; because his life must really be that lonely to make him blush and laugh as a result of a complete stranger.   


As soon as Peter looks up, he wrinkles his face when he sees his image in the mirror again, but this time there's a smile there, and that doesn't explain anything, but it makes him feel better somehow.   


The water in the shower is not completely hot, but it's still far from being a freezer. Peter bathes quickly, using the last few drops of body soap he has left, and sighing every time the water touches his body and cleans the mud and blood remaining on his body.

Once out of the bathroom, with his muscles relaxed and comfortable clothes hugging his body, Peter decides to have some dinner, at 3 a.m. He decides that he will have breakfast instead of dinner, because _how long has it been since Peter enjoyed a good breakfast?_  


The brunet takes out eggs, sausages and turkey bacon, a nice gift from Aunt May, and while placing everything on the counter he can see the little blue light that indicates he has a new message. Peter places the pan on the fire and a small square of butter on it, because he risks his life enough without making himself a candidate for bypass surgery.   


While waiting for the pan to warm up, Peter grabs his phone and opens the text.   
  
From: Private number at 3:09 A.M

_I hope the water was still hot_

Peter smiles foolishly, as if it were a lover or something, and he knows how stupid it must be, but what the hell does it matter? Peter is alone and nobody can see him. The brunet bites his lip, debating whether he should answer or not. Be what it may, this is a complete stranger, and Peter cannot walk through life giving his number to every outsider.   


Not when he's Spider-man, that's risking _a lot_.   


Behind him the butter starts to sizzle, so Peter gasps and leaves the phone aside to prepare the eggs, breaking it on the pan and looking for a wooden spoon to turn it over. His phone screen continues to glow with the stranger's message, and Peter decides that he should eat to clear his thoughts.   


It doesn't help much.   


The TV doesn’t offer much help, there’s nothing in its 150 channels that Peter has not seen already -and he hasn’t been able to pay Netflix yet, so don’t judge him. The food is delicious, all tasty and nice, but his phone screen is a great distraction, staring back at him as if it had all the answers. After a moment of debating his existence and how much he could lose, Peter decides he really doesn't have much to lose; because if Peter's few friends didn't discover that he was Spider-man from day one, there was no way a complete stranger would.  


Once the plate is clean, Peter wipes his hands on a napkin and takes a long breath, lifting the phone and debating whether to call or send a text. It's too late and the other person must be asleep already. He has a mental argument again, and ends up calling, because anxiety always has him making the worst decisions.   


No more than three rings are needed, when the guy answers the phone and they both pause. Peter even stops breathing and is sure that the person on the other end of the line does too.   


"Hey," the guy says, sounding surprised, and Peter doesn't know if that's good or bad. "Sorry, I'm just not sure if this is real or a very nice dream."   


Peter breathes, letting out a short laugh and turning around in his computer chair, which he also uses in the dining room, because the others are just way too boring. "I thought you wouldn't answer."   


On the other side the guy snorts. "The wellbeing of this relationship is important to me, y'know?"   


Peter holds back a laugh and hopes that the other man can’t hear the fact that he’s grinning like an idiot. "Yeah, well, a lot of things have happened in these last few hours, I think we need to talk."   


"Of course," the other responds, in complete seriousness while Peter tries to maintain his composure. "We should think about the children and who gets to keep the dog and those kind of things."   


Peter breaks character and is the first to laugh, making the guy on the other line smile, because Peter is sure he's smiling. "So, what happened to the tacos you ordered?"   


The guy sighs melodramatically and Peter continues to smile while placing the butter in the fridge. "They were good, not enough hot sauce, but that's the usual. What about your bath?"   


Peter thinks for a moment and as a strange premonition of a few seconds, that the voice on the other end sounds familiar, and not only because it sounds like the best orgasm that Peter could wish for, which he had already made clear, but because It sounds like someone Peter already knew.   


After a moment he realizes that he has not said anything in a while, so he clears his throat and answers the question. "Yeah, it was still warm, that was nice."   


"I'm glad," the guy says, really sounding happy for Peter, and Peter can't help narrowing his eyes as he tries to remember. "I'm not taking your sleeping time, am I? Because if you have to wake up early we could talk at another time, or not, I mean-"   


"Do I know you from somewhere?" Peter asks at last, interrupting the other man, frustrated because his tired brain couldn't find the owner of the voice. "It's just that your voice sounds familiar and I just wanted to be sure."   


There is a pause on the other side and Peter bites his lip thinking that maybe he should have been more subtle, when the guy says, "Wow that wasn't smooth back in high school and it isn't now."   


Peter would have died, or maybe passed out from the lack of blood in his body due to the amazing amount of it in his face. "Oh God, we really know each other? That's... jesus, I'm so sorry."   


On the other side, the guy starts laughing and Peter feels so ashamed that he prefers to bury his face in his hands after putting the phone on speaker to hide his shame.   


"It was a joke," admits the other, still laughing. "God I'm the worst, I have no idea who you are. I'm sorry, I never thought you were gonna fall for it."   


Peter stops to glare at the wall, because he doesn't even have a face in his imagination to fulminate before his eyes. "Yeah, very funny."   


The guy sighs to quench his laughter, while Peter sits on the couch to admire the building with reddish bricks in front of his window, the lights of the cars, and the city under it. In about an hour and a half the sun would set, and Peter for the first time doesn't care. He still has time to sleep for three or four hours; maybe five if he gets to convince Tony to let him get there an hour late.   


"What's your job?" Peter asks suddenly, because maybe he saw the guy somewhere or heard him talking. Peter knows that he would never forget such a voice. The other man seems to think about it, as if he works on something that maybe he's ashamed to admit he does, or... the guy just doesn't have a job, and Peter feels bad now, because the world is cruel bitch sometimes.   


"Um, well... I kind of make sure to sweep away the garbage off the world."   


Peter squeezes his brow and admits that he didn't expect that. "Like a janitor?"   


"Weell," the guy hums thoughtfully and chuckles. "Kind of? More like an ecologist. I like to keep nature on balance, you know? The strongest survive and all that."   


Peter doesn't know what to say, so he responds with a simple "Oh, okay," and then shifts position in his seat before saying. "I take pictures for a newspaper," wrinkling his face, because although it would be easy to find out his identity like that. At least he's not exactly lying, right?   


The other man makes a sound of appreciation, which Peter feels at the bottom of his chest; like a vibration that goes even lower than his chest. Peter has been lonely for many years, okay? It's not his fault.   


"Nice, for which newspaper?" The other asks, and Peter chews his lip between his teeth.   


"It would be only fair if you told me something more about you," Peter says, because it's the truth. The guy laughs, and Peter finds that he really likes his laughter, it's like a hoarse purr and he appreciates it. His body appreciates it. _God, I'm so pathetic,_ Peter thinks.   


"Of course, it would be the fair thing to do," the other complies. "Okay um, let's see, what would you like to know? I like old movies, especially the golden girls ones, a TV classic. I wasn't born in this country, and you'll probably think I'm Mexican since I ordered tacos."   


Peter laughs and shakes his head. "I really hadn't."   


The guy snorts too and Peter can't help but smile. "I'm from Canada, the land of maple syrup, and Justin Bieber's curse. I would thank you, because you're still talking to me, but that would be too cliché." Peter laughs again and the guy smiles, Peter's sure. "I really appreciate it you know, you sound like a very interesting guy who probably has much better things to do than having to talk to a lonely guy like me, but you're still here and you've made me smile a lot, and now I'm making everything very awkward. I'll just stop now."   


Peter snorts, this time a little louder as he looks at his phone, the screen is off while the other man's voice continues to come from the speaker. "No, thanks to you, you made me laugh a lot on a night I was hating since it started."   


The guy lets out a nice, warm chuckle and then sighs again. "I think you should rest. If it were up to me, I would never let you hang up, because we probably won't talk again, but I don't want you to go around wishing for a brain salad tomorrow, just because you didn't get enough sleep."   


Peter smiles and bites his lip, shrugging in spite of the fact that the other guy can't see him. "Yeah, you're right, it's a bit late."   


"It is," the other answers, like a whisper, insecure.   


Peter turns off the speaker and places the phone against his ear again, perhaps to listen more closely or simply due to the fact that he really doesn't want to hang up.

"So..."   


"So..."   


Peter lets out a breathy laugh, and this time it is he who sighs. "You have my number... I have yours."   


"Yeah," the other says, this time with a more hopeful tone. "It wouldn't bother me if you call me again, or text me you know, or whatever you want to do. I um- it wouldn't bother me."   


"Me neither," Peter says, smiling as he plays with his toes, because people always do that in movies and Peter has always criticized those scenes until he lives it in his own flesh. "I um, will text you then, when I wake up?"   


"Sure!" The guy responds, this time happy, and Peter shakes his head, hiding his smile between his legs, because the both of them are pathetic, and that's funny.

"Okay, now go to sleep, Baby boy."   


"That's..." Peter thinks about it and rolls his eyes before sighing. "Yeah, you too."   


Once they hang up, or at least Peter does, expecting the same from the other man, he sits in silence in front of the TV, looking out his window. He thinks about the millions of bad decisions he has made throughout his life and how much he sometimes wishes to go back in time to be able to change certain things, and decides that he really doesn't regret anything that happened in the last few hours; at least not _yet_.

After a long reflection, Peter buries himself in his blankets on his bed, and closes his eyes, realizing he hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time.   


~°~   


Hours became days and days turned into weeks, and before Wade realized it, he had been talking to a cute boy for two and a half weeks through text messages, sometimes even calling to talk on the phone.   


Wade is not sure what he has done to deserve something so incredible in his life, considering that nothing good ever happens to him; even though the mercenary has not yet seen the owner of the sweet voice on the other side of the phone.

Sometimes they send picture; what they're doing or the clothes they're wearing in case they ever meet on the street. It's almost like a chase Wade is not sure if he wants to end or not, because here's the thing, Wade knows that when that guy sees his face, there will be no more messages and even less occasional calls.

There is no way, that that boy who had just sent him a picture showing the most beautiful smile Wade has ever seen, with the brunet's half face from the nose down and only half his smile, showing a few brown curls of his hair, in front of a building and with the sunlight illuminating his white and soft skin... Could never fall for a guy like _him_.  


"Fuck," Wade sighs, picking up the cell phone to look at the picture more closely and forgetting everything he was thinking. "I'm screwed! Look at that smile for the love of God."   


"Are you still talking to that boy?" Al asks, sitting next to Wade with a beer can in her hand. "Have you told him how much of a loser you are?"   


"Every day, Al," Wade sighs, laying his head on the woman's shoulder. "Do you want me to describe the photo to you? I'm sure if you saw him you would have an orgasm."   


"Remind me again why does that guy keep talking to you?"   


Wade ignores the question, placing his feet with unicorn slippers on the coffee table, lifting Al's hand that was holding the beer can, so it can also be seen inside the frame, and ignoring Al's annoyed sigh as he takes the picture, sending it to the brunet next to the heading. "Watching some movies with my roommate, y'home already?"   


Wade reopens the photo that the other sent him and sighs again. "Sometimes he makes me feel able to face him and tell him a casual 'Hey, I'm the guy you've been talking to all this time', but then I look in the mirror and all that goes to hell."   


"Love is blind, Wade," Al says, turning her face towards Wade, who shakes his head.   


"No, Al, you’re blind," he says, still leaning on the woman's shoulder. "He's young, a smart college student who works for a newspaper, and Stark Industries. The boy has the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, a few freckles on his cheeks, and a nice mole on his neck."   


"You need to stop studying his pictures, you creep."   


"He has a great future ahead of him, Al," Wade says, putting his cell phone on his lap and watching the shut TV screen in front of the couch. "I have an eternal life ahead and no dream to pursue."   


"Then make one," Al says, shrugging and taking Wade's hand in hers. "I may not have an eternal life ahead, but I've had a long past behind, and you Wade, you're a great guy; in spite of your millions of imperfections and that dirty mouth you have-" Wade mutters something under his breath and the woman smiles. "That young man would be lucky to have you by his side."   


"You're being very cute tonight, you'll make me blush," Wade says, sighing as he opens the new message from the brunet, which says. "I like your slippers, I think I'll have a burger today, because I'm too tired to cook something fancy."   


Wade smiles like an idiot, feeling like an actual idiot, but unable to avoid it, and sends an emoji with its finger up in approval, before asking if he can call him. The other answers yes, and Wade doesn't wait long to call. "I'll put the cell phone close to your ear, so you can hear what a true angel sounds like, Al."   


The woman rolls her eyes behind the dark glasses and sighs, turning on the television to listen if there's something interesting on the news, while Wade at her side bites his nails.   


"Hey, I just got to my apartment," says the guy on the other side of the phone, and Wade represses a sigh.   


"Long day, huh?" Wade asks, getting up to look for something to eat, listening as on the other side of the line, the brunet places the keys on the table, and opens the fridge.   


"Pretty long, although as a highlight I can mention the monthly payment and my projects' notes," The college student says, sounding like a nerd with whom Wade can't help but smile.   


"Only A's I imagine," Wade says, taking out cheese, chips, ham, and bread from the fridge. "You’re a complete nerd."   


"Thanks," the other answers, taking his own bag of chips and throwing some into his mouth. "My classmates hate me."   


Wade snorts and shakes his head. "I would hate you," he says, and the brunet laughs a cute, warm snort, to which Wade smiles and takes two slices of bread. "Never mind, I could never hate you. I would probably see you and have the biggest crush on you. I would try to have the teacher leave us group projects, so I can ask you to be my partner."   


The other young man laughs loudly this time, while Wade spreads some butter over the bread and listens to the pan sizzling on the other side of the phone as the guy prepares the meat for his burger. "My face is pretty ordinary, you know," says the brunet, "You shouldn't raise your hopes so high."   


"Pretty it is alright, I bet you even wear glasses to read," Wade smiles proudly when the boy suppresses a chuckle. "Jesus, you're going to kill me, you're adorable."   


"Maybe I'm an ogre," the other says, moving the meat so it doesn't stick to the pan. "One of those that changes its appearance at night."   


"Easy Fiona," Wade jokes, making the other laugh again, it's his new favorite hobby. "We both know who the real Shrek is here."   


"Hey," the brunet says, softly and with loving seriousness. "Don't say that, you're great."   


"That's because you haven't seen my face yet," Wade says, biting his lip, because sometimes it's easier to say than showing. Describe his appearance, so that the young man can make an image of Wade's face in his head, lose interest until he knows that he should be wasting his time with someone more attractive and at his level.   


"You haven't seen mine either, and still think that I am an angel fallen from the sky, so I have the right to do the same."   


"Fine, but I fell on my face."   


"Even better, nobody likes an arrogant angel who lies about having fallen in perfect balance."   


Wade snorts loudly and leans against the kitchen sink, watching the ham and cheese sandwich in front of him. "You're too good for this world, Baby boy."   


"And you're amazing, you..." The guy hums thoughtfully and says "you red panda."   


Wade snorts again, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head, while on the other side of the phone Wade can hear the brunet smile. "Red Panda?" Wade asks, thinking about his Deadpool suit and how the coincidence is simply too funny.   


"It fits you," the other says, now with the water of the dishwasher as a background sound. "You're cute and funny."   


"Cute," Wade jokes, "As cute as a wart."   


"Ew," the guy laughs, placing a plate on the table with his burger probably ready. Wade takes the opportunity to take his own sandwich in hand. "I think Gordon Ramsay would applaud my culinary work," the brunet says.   


"I think he would put my head between the bread and call me a stupid sandwich.” They both laugh and Wade puts the phone on speaker to send a picture of his food to Baby boy, who sends him one of his own hamburger, which has lettuce and even tomato. "Now _that_ looks good."   


The brunet smiles proud, Wade can sense it, and it makes him feel warm. "Thank you, I think I'll eat it in one bite; I'm very hungry."   


"Bon Appetit!" Wade says, swallowing a bite of his own artwork. "If it bothers you that we talk while we eat, we could hang up and text, or, we might as well imagine this is a date."   


"Very romantic," the brunet says, biting his burger and prolonging the silence while chewing, swallowing, _thinking_. Even leaves time for Wade to think. "Maybe someday we could go out and eat something for real," the other offers, timidly.   


Wade remains silent for a moment, looking at his sandwich, and chewing his insecurities. "Sure," he says simply, almost inaudible, because he doesn't have enough assurance.   


On the other side, the young man seems to bite his lip, leaving the hamburger aside for a moment to think about his words. "I don't know exactly what you have that you feel that I couldn't handle, but I mean it, your appearance is not the most important thing to me."   


Blind Al raises her hand from the couch to show that she was right, and Wade glares at her even though the woman can't see him. Then he sighs and shrugs. "You haven't even told me your name yet and you're already planning a date?"   


The brunet chuckles and returns to savor his burger. "Yeah, well," he says, standing up to pour himself a glass of juice. "I promise I'll tell you that when we're face to face."   


Wade smiles and shrugs, "then I promise to show you my face when we're face to face."   


On the other side Wade hears a cheerful laugh, it's his new favorite sound really. "I'm glad, it would be weird if you showed up with a bag on your head at our first meeting."   


"You just ruined my style, Baby boy," Wade says, opening his own beer can, and listening for the thousandth time in that night, the brunet's cute laugh.   


"I'm almost done with my burger and I'll go to sleep," the other says, taking a sip of his drink and suppressing a yawn. "Talk tomorrow?"   


"I'll be waiting," Wade whispers, smiling at the phone. "Don't forget to brush your teeth."   


"I will, daddy." The brunet says, bursting into laughter when Wade gasps.   


"You are entering dangerous zones, Baby boy."   


"Good night, you," the other says, smiling.   


"Good night, Baby boy," Wade hangs up and sighs dramatically, leaving the phone aside, eating the last piece of his sandwich. "I'm damned, Al."   


Al nods and turns off the TV to throw away the beer can. "You are," she says, patting Wade's shoulder and moving to her room. "You totally are."   


~°~   


Peter never thought that a call with a stranger just some weeks ago, would become his daily social life, especially because there was no day that Peter didn't hear from him or he didn’t hear from Peter. Peter had even saved him in his contacts as "Red Panda."   


Really, Peter wasn't complaining, it was quite interesting, and even became the highlight of his day; especially in the evenings when most of the time one of the two would call the other. Peter usually called if his nights as Spider-man turned out boring, or the other guy called when Peter arrived from his patrol. Both had some kind of schedule, as if they were synchronized.   


The last few weeks the nights had been very quiet in the city, just typical attempts at robberies, or drunken guys who made problems in bars, but nothing out of the ordinary. Apart from the unknown guy, Peter didn't have much social life, Gwen and Matt were the few people who kept in touch. Tony was his boss, so Peter saw him every day, and the only mercenary with whom Peter had shared several nights of patrol as Spider-man, hadn't show his face for about a year and a half. That was something very common for Wade.   


Peter felt very safe talking to this stranger, the guy was nice, he made Peter laugh all the time, and there was always something to talk about even when there was really nothing to talk about. It was extremely nice.   


Peter was just _dying_ to meet him.   


The guy had made it quite clear that his appearance was "strange, different, unpleasant" words with which Peter would never describe him, maybe strange and different, in a good way, but never unpleasant, regardless of his physique.   


"You look happy."   


Peter looks up and finds Tony smiling in front of him, watching him with a raised eyebrow. "Or rather, you look pathetic, like someone in love."   


Peter laughs, shaking his head and cutting off the insulation of the two wires he is going to join. "Love is a big word."   


"I know," Tony nods, throwing away the damaged pieces, "but you look like that."   


Peter smiles and blushes, trying to hide it with his big lab lenses. "I met someone," he says, placing the heat shrink tubing while Tony looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "Well, technically I still don't know him, I mean yes but no."   


"Are you using tinder or grindr? How many times have I told you that doesn't work?" Tony says, glaring at Peter, who laughs loudly.   


"I'm not using any dating apps, Tony," Peter says, as a matter of fact, and lifts the tin-planer to solder the wires. "It's complicated to explain."   


"In our lives," Tony says, crossing his arms. "Everything is complicated, kiddo, just try to be careful, okay?"   


Peter nods, joining both wires and smiling at Tony. "I don't even know his name, everything's fine."   


Tony looks at him with a frown in confusion and shakes his head, walking towards the door "You young people are weird."   


Peter chuckles and shrugs. "We are," he admits.   


That night Peter goes to a Mexican food restaurant called "Taco Feliz" and cannot help laughing, taking a picture and sending it to the stranger, who responds with an "I told you." and Peter realizes that it's almost a month and a half since he started talking with this guy, and decides that tonight he will do something different.   


~°~   


After having lost an arm and dying for the countless time in his life, Wade simply went home, took off his suit, and drew a hot bath, before he went to bed and slept until all his limbs returned to normal. It had been one of his worst nights; the mercenary had managed to kill a few smugglers, but he still didn't feel complete, as if something was missing and not exactly his arm.   


Al had left, so Wade has no one to vent to. The dim light of the street enters through his curtains, and Wade sighs as he laces his hands over his stomach, observing the ceiling in complete boredom, moving his feet and trying to ignore the voices in his head that have nothing good to say, because in days like these, there is no worse enemy than his own head.   


His cell phone vibrates to indicate an unread message, probably sent while Wade was sleeping. So, the mercenary takes the device and for a moment he forgets all his ills when he reads with a big smile. "Hey! Just got home, how 'bout you?"   


With the message there's a picture attached, which Wade can't wait to see, so he unlocks the phone, opens the message... and his whole world stops. Wade’s breathing starts to fail and his heart stops working properly.   


"Holy fucking shit, baby Jesus and whatever other biblical figures, wow."   


It's a selfie, a full-face photograph, not a half-smile, not a picture of the park or the milkshake that he was taking that afternoon, or of his fingers in a sign of peace in front of his TV screen. No. After so many pictures shared during this last month and a half, it is the first time that Wade can observe the brunet's face, his Baby boy.   


"Shit, I'm completely fucked, look at that," the mercenary says, to no one in particular, more to himself.   


Wade sat on his bed, scratching his head in thought as he watched those pretty almond eyes marked by a smile that showed his upper teeth and even some cute canine showing. His freckles rose to the bridge of his nose and down to his cheeks, painting his white skin, while strands of curly hair fell on his forehead and rose everywhere on his head.   


He was beautiful. Wade was lost.   


"What am I supposed to do now?" Wade asks the phone, the young man still smiling on the screen. "You're perfect, I have nothing to show."   


Wade leaves the phone on his bed, standing to walk from side to side without taking his eyes off the screen, trying to think clearer. What can he do now? The boy won't ask for a picture in return, of course he is too sweet to force Wade to face a camera, but it was the fairest thing Wade could do.   


"Shit," Wade growls, resting both hands on the mattress and looking at the screen. "Where the fuck is Al when I need her?"   


According to the text, the boy hadn't seen his phone or opened the app in the last twenty minutes, he was probably already sleeping, maybe the next morning Wade could make some excuse and get away from the matter. "And you'd be a complete jerk," Wade told himself. "Look at that beautiful smile, how could you disappoint that cute guy?"   


Wade groans again, sitting on the floor next to his bed and sinking his face between the sheets.

_What do I do? I'll lose him forever._

He was feeling all his insecurities grow, his head kept screaming, and his stomach was spinning.   


"At least I have to try," he says, picking up the phone with trembling hands, and breathing deeply as he opens the camera, pressing the option that rotates the image, making his face appear in the frame of the screen. Wade wrinkles his nose at his disfigured appearance, the lack of eyebrows, and how each space is full of scars, as well as his entire body.   


"If the guy is not asleep, you'll cause him nightmares," he says to himself, sighing and straightening his shoulders and back, so he doesn't look like the depressed guy he is. His finger touches the center button, and the first photo is ready.   


"Great, I don't see myself," he says, rolling his eyes and getting up to turn on the light, clenching his jaw, because despite the lack of light, the photo still showed his unpleasant appearance. "Okay, I can do this."   


Again he picks up the phone, this time the light illuminates his face better, and although it doesn't make him look better, at least it makes him visible.   


Wade rolls his eyes again and smiles slightly, not showing his teeth, because he doesn't have enough confidence to do so. One click and go. Wade deletes it.   


He tries another angle. He deletes it. Tries another area of the room. He deletes it. Tries another shirt. He deletes it. He puts on a red sweatshirt. He deletes it as well.   


After many unsuccessful attempts and several areas not only of his room, but of the whole house, Wade gives up. Growling, he sits on the bed and scratches his head in frustration, raising his hoodie, covering his face. "For fucks sake, it's just a picture," he says, watching his cell phone screen with the camera open and looking up at the ceiling.   


Wade sighs in resignation, lifting the device and placing it in front of his face, the hood of his sweatshirt still covers the top of his head and the light of the room marks the scars of his mouth even more, especially when he smiles slightly, even without showing his teeth. There's a click.   


Wade doesn't see the picture, he simply opens the Baby boy's message and instead watches the selfie that the brunet sent him. Wade smiles and sighs defeated. "Fine, here you go."   


He sends the picture without even looking at it twice.   


~ ° ~   


Peter takes a moment to recover his breath and sanity after having fallen off the couch after receiving the message in response to his selfie. It had taken a lot of courage for Peter to have sent a picture of his face, and a little more anxiety to have waited for an answer, so it's only fair to say that Peter had already studied all possible panoramas in response to his selfie.   


What Peter never thought, not even in his strangest plan, was to discover that the person he had been talking with day and night, with whom he had been sharing all his days, and in whom Peter had grown the biggest crush of his lifetime was Deadpool.   


Wade Winston Wilson aka Deadpool, aka the mercenary Peter had kicked not once, but several times. Whom Peter sometimes wanted to throw from the top of a building when he didn't shut up, or who always had something to say about his ass... and whom Peter had not seen for a year and several months.   


So yeah, a panic attack was the least that Peter could have after seeing the photo, because the voice sounded familiar from the beginning and now Peter knew _why_.   


"Oh my god!" Peter shouted at last, breathing hard and looking at the screen, at Deadpool. No, at Wade, in casual clothes and smiling at the camera. "Oh my god!"   


Peter sat back in his chair, watching Wade with wide eyes and running his fingers through his hair as a nervous gesture. "What do I do now? Wade cannot know who I am, but now he has my picture." Peter felt the panic attacking again, so he stood up and started walking from side to side.   


"You need to calm down, Peter, think clearly," he says to himself, taking a deep breath and staring at his cell phone. Wade's smiling, with blue eyes looking towards the camera, he looks sad and Peter notices, although his smile tries to hide it.   


"Shit," Peter says, sitting back in the chair, lifting the cell phone to look at the photo more closely, biting his lip to see the scars surrounding Wade's smile, and his eyes shining despite the insecurity.   


"It took you a lot of courage to send this, right?" Peter asks the image, and doesn't need it to speak for Peter to know the answer. "What will I do now, huh?" Peter asks again, sighing. "Do you know who I am?"   


The photo of course doesn't say anything, and Peter sighs again, leaning against the back of the couch, tilting his head back to observe the ceiling thoughtfully.   


Deadpool. The man who has made him smile, laugh, look forward to a message or a call, who has encouraged him when Peter feels exhausted, and who has listened to him when the other is probably just as tired. Deadpool. _Wade_.   


Peter sighs and closes his eyes, shaking his head and smiling for the first time since he saw the photo, laughing at the thought of irony. "Fine," he says, picking up the phone to write his final decision.   


~ ° ~   


That's it. Wade ruined everything, the only good thing he had left in his life Wade flushed it down the toilet when he decided to send that picture. It was the end, the guy probably had already run to his cell phone provider to demand that they open the door for him despite the time, so that they can change his phone number.   


It had been about 40 minutes since Wade sent the picture, and the brunet had not yet answered. He had even seen the message. Wade wanted to die, disappear, take a time machine, and slap himself for thinking that sending a picture of his face would be a good idea.   


"Dammit!" Wade grunts, standing up to look for his best weapon, because there were many ways to unload his frustration, either with himself or someone out there who...   


His cell phone rings and Wade stops breathing, approaching slowly, afraid that if he does it too quickly, the answer would run out. On the screen there is a message from Baby boy "I told you that you were a red panda."   


Wade watches the screen dumbfounded, blinking several times, and leaving the gun on his nightstand, jumping when another message comes in. "What do you say if we go to the arcade?"   


The mercenary is still not sure if his brain is cheating him as it has happened many other times, so he opens the message, observing the screen for about 15 minutes, and he doesn’t know really well how to react. The voices in his head continue to speak, but Wade hears them in the distance, like a whisper, while the mercenary observes the smiling emoji that the brunet sent along with the question.   


Wade takes the cell phone in his hand and frowns, opening his own selfie to watch it this time with more attention. He looks horrible, the scars are still there, and his hair is still missing. Any person in their right mind would have blocked Wade, but not Baby boy. Of course, the other guy really has to be a creature from another world.   


His fingers begin to move, Wade writes an: "Of course, I would be an idiot if I said no," but erases it because it sounds too desperate, and Wade is desperate, but now that his face didn't ruin his chance, Wade needs to look like an interesting and cool guy.   


"Sure," no, too casual. "Of course, when?" Again, very desperate.   


"God, help a little here, you stupid brain," Wade grunts, sitting cross-legged on the bed to sigh. In the end, he writes calmly, as if it were poetry. "Okay, I'll keep it casual, but not too much."   


"Sounds great, I have free time tomorrow"   


Wade wrinkles his face and decides to simply send the first part of what he wrote, but instead his fingers touch the send button and Wade curses himself again, not only internally, but also externally, because his curses are probably heard all over the city. He thinks about going back to the option with his weapon, when a quick response from Baby Boy says:   


"Perfect, I also have free time tomorrow at noon."   


The mercenary watches his phone, his sweatshirt wrinkled after the panic attack, the bed sheets on the floor, and his pillow at the foot of the wall after Wade threw it with all his might. Then he takes his cell phone, smiles in love and answers: "Great, see you tomorrow then."   


~°~   


Their plan was to meet at 6 o'clock in the evening in front of the Arcade next to Stark Industries after Peter finished his shift, and Wade did whatever it was he had to do.   


Peter is standing in front of the building, combing his hair discreetly in vain for his curls have a life of their own, and stretching his short-sleeved shirt with black, white, orange, yellow and green stripes that match his jeans.   


Peter secretly decides to check his breath, people always do that and Peter thinks it actually makes sense that they do, so he puts his hand to his mouth, blows and...   


"Hey there!"   


Peter jumps and turns surreptitiously to smile at his date, Wade. Who wears a gray sweater that has the hoodie raised despite the fact that on his bald head he's wearing a white cap.   


Wade smiles shyly, shrugging a little to hide from the others, and his blue eyes stare at Peter for just a few seconds before he looks away. Peter beams, and approaches a little, almost unconsciously to stretch his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."   


The other nods, shaking Peter's hand still with a shy smile on his face, although this grows a little after Peter's words. "The pleasure is mine, Baby boy."   


Peter feels the need to slap his forehead for having been so ignorant all this time and not recognizing Deadpool's voice on all those calls, it was obvious that it was Wade. "Do we go in now?" Peter asks, pointing to the door with his finger.   


Wade nods, as if surprised that Peter is still here, and Peter can't help but think that's adorable. The mercenary even clears his throat and rushes to open the door for Peter, who chuckles, trying to hide his blush, because he planned to do that first.   


The place is full of people, but everything is very dark, only the screens of the games and the dim lights of the corridors illuminate those who are present. Peter chose the place deliberately, knowing that Wade wouldn't be comfortable in a place where everyone could be watching and making comments. The idea was that both would have a good time.   


"What is your type of game?" Peter asks, observing the different corridors to choose the games that allowed two players.   


"I could kick your ass in any game," the mercenary says, laughing when Peter eyes him with a raised eyebrow.   


"You and who else?" Peter asks, walking towards the shooting games, because he knows that Wade likes weapons, and Peter prefers to kill imaginary creatures.   


"What about this one?" Wade offers, approaching a machine with laser guns and drawings with aliens on it. "I know you like space, and I like to shoot, cans and stuff, you know."   


Peter bites his lip to suppress a laugh, it's funny to see Wade trying to hide his Deadpool life. "It's fine with me," Peter says, nodding and taking the other weapon.   


The mercenary smiles and starts the game, which begins telling the story of how the aliens dominated the world and some humans want to regain control over their home. "Blah blah blah," Wade says, passing the conversations between the main characters. "I swear sometimes they think it's a novel."   


"Right?" Peter agrees, laughing and shaking his head. "As if in real life people are given so many directions before a mission." Wade looks at him confused and Peter clears his throat "I mean, when you have to do reports and things like that."   


The game begins and Peter sighs in relief, raising the space weapon in front of his chest to prepare himself in case of an attack, beside him Wade starts laughing when he sees him. "Have you ever held a gun?"   


Peter glares at him and raises his nose in the air, "I work in a lab, I don't need guns."   


Wade laughs again and shakes his head. "Alright, let's see what we gotta do."   


After a couple of rounds with many aliens attacking and Wade killing the majority - because Peter can be very agile when it comes to fighting, but never holding a weapon. They went on to another cowboys game, where they played as rivals and Peter tried to distract Wade every time he hit Peter, he even pushed him when the mercenary killed him. The game they liked the most however, was one with car wheels, because they both sucked at it and finished last.   


They were still laughing when one of the people in charge of the place approaches to announce that they will be closing in half an hour. The both of them turn to look at each other and smile. Time had passed very quickly and Peter never imagined that he would have such a good time on a date with Deadpool.   


"Wanna go for something to eat?" The mercenary offers, opening the door again to let Peter pass as they get out of the arcade.   


The brunet nods, still with a smile on his face "Sure, where do you want to go?"   


"Hmm," Wade looks around and squints his eyes thoughtfully "I think I know a nice place."   


Peter shrugs and lets Wade lead him, both of them walking among so many people who are distracted inside their own world, while they live in theirs. "It's a special place," Wade says, smirking under the shade of his cap "We met thanks to them."   


Peter snorts and shakes his head when he sees the name "Of course it had to be there."   


The Taco Feliz has a large sign on the entrance in earth colors and a drawing of a smiling taco with maracas in its hands. Wade orders four tacos and a big drink while Peter waits outside, and comes out with a big smile to show Peter the piles of hot sauce he got.   


Both continue walking through the streets, because the night is nice and Wade says he knows a "cool" place, resulting in both of them climbing an emergency ladder to the roof of an apartment building and taking a seat on the edge of the roof. Peter can't help but smile at the irony of being with Deadpool, sitting on top of a building without their suits.   


"The city is beautiful at night, don't you think?" Wade asks.   


Peter nods and takes one of his tacos out of the bag, unfolding it out of its package while watching the lights of the other buildings as the lines of cars ran through the streets. "Yeah, I like the view you chose, it makes me feel small."   


Wade grins proudly, not showing his teeth as he has just taken a bite out of his own taco. "We are small," he mumbles.   


Peter smiles and bites his taco, turning his gaze towards the mercenary, who looks calm. He's not trying to cover his face as he always did when Peter was up close in his Spider-man suit and Deadpool had his mask torn, his suit in pieces.   


"You travel a lot?" Peter asks, although he knows that his real question was 'why did you disappear for a year and a half?'   


Wade shrugs and wipes his hands after finishing his first taco "Sometimes, work and stuff."   


Peter nods and looks down at his hands "I would like to travel, maybe someday."   


Wade looks at him for a moment and then turns his eyes towards the city "It's nice, I'd like to share those experiences with someone."   


The brunet smiles and ends his taco, sighing as he moves his feet to the edge of the building. "I want to thank you for coming today," he says, grinning and shrugging, without looking at Wade "I know it took courage for you to do it and I really had a great time."   


The mercenary stares him, but Peter doesn't turn to look at him even though he can feel Wade's eyes on his face, maybe studying his features, looking for a lie where there is none.   


"I had a great time too," the mercenary finally says, smiling as timidly as the first time, and wiping his hand on his black pants to extend a hand towards Peter. "The name is Wade, by the way."   


Peter laughs, and not because of the fact that he already knew, but because they had spent an entire afternoon together without Peter telling his name. "I'm Peter, nice to meet you, Wade," he says, shaking the mercenary's hand.   


Wade smiles, this time showing his bright teeth and squeezes Peter's hand lightly. "The pleasure is mine, Peter, baby boy."   


Peter laughs and continues eating, feeling light somehow. "Do you have family, Wade?"   


Wade shakes his head, but then seems to think about it and shrugs. "Well, I have some friends that I consider family, what about you?"   


"An aunt," Peter says "I'll introduce you two, I'm sure you'll like her. I also have a few friends.”  


Wade chuckles and looks at Peter "Welcome to the losers club, we are few because we don't have many friends to invite."   


Peter snorts and covers his mouth to avoid spitting the drink of cola he had just sipped, while Wade laughs and points with his finger. "You better swallow that, baby boy, your shower doesn't even work so think about all the sugar you're going to spill on you."   


The brunet tries to breathe through his nose and hits Wade on the shoulder, who observes in amazement "Wow, you're pretty strong."   


Peter blushes when he realizes that he might have used a bit of his Spider-man strength, and he swallows to clear his throat and change the subject "It's a bit late."   


Wade doesn't nod, but he doesn't deny it either, as he looks at the city and maybe his own life. "Yeah," he says at last, feeling a knot in his stomach because his internal debate is summarized in: _Will he call me again or will this be the last time we talk?_  


Peter watches him, imagining the mercenary's internal dialogue, so he smiles warmly and places his hand on Wade's, who looks at their hands in surprise. Then, he looks up with wide eyes to observe Peter. "Hey, how about we put a date for next week? That is if you don't have to travel."   


"I'll cancel!" Wade says almost immediately, wrinkling his face as he saw his dignity fall over the edge of the building. "I mean, sure."   


Peter laughs, shakes his head, standing up, and stretching his back "Perfect, thank you Wade, I mean it."   


Wade gets up too, picking up the bag with taco wrappers and smiling as timidly as he has done all night, it's adorable. "Nah Pete, thank _you_."   


There's an awkward silence for a moment, until Peter comes up, and hugs him, leaving Wade with no air. Not because Peter crushed him, but because the mercenary probably didn't expect it. Then Peter lets him go and smiles. "Alright, gotta go, see you next week."   


Wade nods foolishly and Peter chuckles. He goes down the emergency ladder, into the alley, while his cheeks burn and his smile doesn't stop being plastered on his face. Who would've thought that a date with Wade was going to turn out so well.   


~°~   


Wade didn't wait long to run home, throw himself on the couch where Al was listening to her favorite series with ease, and began to tell all the details of his date to the woman, who didn't even flinch. "It was perfect, Al, the boy is a strange creature from the cosmic world, son of Gods and a work of art," Wade sighs and Al pats his knee.   


"I told you everything would be fine."   


"Yes, but you say many things, woman, and not all are very good ideas," he says, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, as he stands up to search among their rented movies while Al frowns.   


"What the hell are you doing? I'm watching my series," she says, following the mercenary's footsteps with her head.   


Wade looks at her with a pout, knowing that Al can probably feel his sadness. "But we have to watch a romantic movie, it's our thing."   


"Our what?" Al frowns and Wade puts the film of an old DVD they have, ploping down on the couch.   


"Our thing," he replies as he rolls his eyes. "Every time someone has a nice date, we watch romantic movies."   


She huffs and continues confused "Neither of us has ever done that."   


"Well, now it's our thing because apparently I'll have more dates from now on," Wade rolls his eyes again but smiles, and presses play with the dirty control. "Just stop complaining and get romantic with me."   


"No thanks." Al says, wrinkling her nose.   


"Ew, not in that way, you filthy woman," Wade laughs, shaking his head and lying down on the couch. "I still have some dignity left."   


The mercenary cuddles next to Al, using the woman's knees as a pillow and raising his feet without shoes to the armrest, to which Al can't help but smile. It's a rare sight to see Wade happy, and when it happens, she can't help but feel happy for him.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post Part Two of this story next week :)


	2. Chapter 2

What would be one date became three, and what was supposed to be three, extended to five. 

Peter felt better than he had in a long time. Wade was a great guy, always making him laugh and throwing some not so subtle compliments every time he saw the entrance open, but everything was taking calmly, so much so that Peter was wishing he could at least kiss him. 

Even Deadpool had made his appearance. One night he came to help Spider-man and tried to keep it as peaceably as possible. Peter was happy to see him, even blushing every time the mercenary made a comment about his ass. The brunet even used the false voice that at some point he placed on his mask in case he met someone he knew while being Spider-man, and it was strangely funny to see Wade looking at him with a frown when he asked if Peter was sick. 

There were still twenty minutes left before work was done. Peter had gone to the bathroom to change his clothes in his free time, and had returned to the lab covertly with his hair recently combed, no crusty in his eyes, and clean pants. 

Tony looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Peter just smiles. Wade was probably already waiting for him in the bowling place, and Peter was extremely anxious. He had decided since the previous night that this would be the date in which Peter would kiss the mercenary and asked him out. No matter how corny that sounds. 

"You look anxious," Tony comments, coming closer and acting as if he's studying Peter's tools. "You going out?" 

Peter bites his lip, holding back a laugh, and nods, cleaning his desk to kill time "Maybe." 

"Maybe?" Tony asks, narrowing his eyes at Peter. "So everything went well with Mr. Unknown?" 

"He's not that unknown anymore," the brunet murmurs, chuckling when Tony raises an eyebrow. 

"Are you using condoms?" Tony asks. 

"Jesus!" Peter shouts, looking at Tony with wide eyes. "What is your problem?" Tony glares at him and Peter continues to clean the table while whispering, "we haven't even kissed yet." 

Tony raises an eyebrow higher and higher, until Pete feels certain it's going to merge with his hair and Iron Man is going to have to explain on international television that his lack of faith in his young friend had led him to lose one brow. "I don't think the two of your are _that_ pathetic." 

Peter glares at him and then laughs at himself. "Yeah well, I think we are. It's romantic, you know?" 

"It's pathetic," Tony says, walking to the door and combing his hair. "Tell me everything tomorrow, your turn was over 5 minutes ago." 

Peter gasps at the clock, removes his robe and hangs it from the hook against the wall, running towards the street while he grabs his backpack. Once out on the street, the boy dodges several people and runs to the train, which takes him to the street Wade mentioned. He has to change his route for a moment just to stop a fight, before continuing on the right path and find the mercenary waiting in front of the bowling place. 

Peter gasps a little and smiles trying to disguise it, to which Wade looks at him with both eyebrows raised. "Did you run here?" 

"I was late," Peter answers, standing up straight again to approach Wade, who receives him with a hug. Hugs are a thing between them now, Peter feels safe in Wade's arms, and the mercenary seems to feel comfortable doing it. Peter could swear he even likes them. 

"You look _fine_ ," Wade says, smiling as he looks at Peter in his red shirt and black jacket, something Peter had not really planned until he looked in the mirror and thought about Deadpool. 

"Thanks," Peter says, looking at Wade and grining as much. "You look great too." 

The mercenary blushes and Peter knows he will never get tired of that vision, especially when Wade wears a pink sweatshirt from Johnson's baby oil, matching it with a white cap and black pants. "It was a gift," the mercenary explains although Peter didn't ask. 

Peter opens the door this time, so that both can enter, and observes the almost empty place with a smile, because it has been a while since he last played bowling with anyone. Besides, the place is nice with its disco lights and light wooden floor. 

Wade enlists them for one of the tracks, and directs Peter while reading the numbers. "First the shoes," he says, taking off his own while walking to the little stall where the guy in charge of the shoes shows up, with a neutral face and very uninterested in the new visitors. 

"Sizes?" The guy simply asks, his name is Ron, according to the label on his shirt. 

"Um, 9?" Peter says, to which Ron seems nonchalant as he turns to Wade, who smiles seductively and wiggles his eyebrows. 

"You know what they say about shoes, right?" Peter laughs, shaking his head as the mercenary turns with the same smile towards Ron. "I need a pair of 13s, Ronnie." 

Peter snorts, looking down at the floor, while Ron looks at them still very unimpressed, and goes to the shelf behind him to look for their right sizes. Wade laughs too and winks at Ron when he gives them the shoes. 

"I think Ron hates us," Peter says, sitting on the chairs in front of their track to put on his shoes. 

"Poor Ron, he has a terrible job," Wade says, walking to the track to look for some balls. "How do you like your balls, Peter?" He asks, and Peter can't help but laugh even if it's a children's joke. 

"I like them shiny," Peter answers, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

Wade nods, with an eyebrow raised in an impressed manner as he smiles in thought. "Nice, just this morning I gave them a clean-up." 

Peter snorts again and Wade laughs too, taking a blue ball and standing in front of the rail. "Whoever loses today, buys the other fries and hot dogs." Peter nods, while crossing his arms in confidence. "This ball is gonna go deep," Wade says and winks at him "what do you think?" 

Peter purses his lips in thought and even places a finger on his chin for more effect. "I'm not sure about that, you chose the blue ball." 

Wade laughs loudly, shakes his head, taking up position, and throwing the ball with the necessary gentleness to make a strike. The mercenary turns around with a twist of his feet and a proud expression, approaching Peter's seat, and leaning down until his mouth is touching Peter's ear. "I don't know about that, Baby boy. I don't think there are going to be blue balls tonight." 

Peter feels the blush spread from his face to his chest and probably even further if his body had the blood to spare. Then he clears his throat and walks to the track to take the first ball in position, Peter points to the desired destination, and throws for his first strike of the night. 

The round lasts about half an hour, in which Peter couldn't stop thinking about Wade's words despite taking the lead, and not that Wade was bad, Peter was simply too good in terms of throwing things with his hands. 

Once the game was over, Wade bought the hotdogs, and Peter insisted on paying for the fries and drinks. His cheeks kept blushing every time Wade made eye contact and Peter realized he was pathetic. Jesus, Tony was right. 

"And how is work going?" Wade asks, breaking the silence as they leave the bowling place. 

Peter shrugs and raises the hood of his jacket when he feels a few drops of water fall on his cheeks "All good, the pay is good for a lonely guy like me." 

"And even so it doesn't give you enough to fix your shower," Wade says, laughing when Peter glares at him. 

"I don't know, I never have time to fix it, and when I have it, I only think about sleeping," the brunet says, grinning at the floor. 

Wade agrees and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I was serious when I said I can help you with that, you know." 

The brunet chuckles and nods, observing how on the sidewalk drops of water begin to appear. "I know," he then looks up and notices the coming storm, clearing his throat to give himself some courage. "Do you wanna go now? My apartment, I mean." 

Wade frowns and stops on his tracks, watching Peter carefully. "Wait, are you serious?" 

Peter bites his lip and nods, his head a little low to avoid the drops of water to fall in his eyes, while Wade raises both eyebrows and tries to smile casually. "Okay, sure, I can help you right now." 

Peter laughs and nods, continuing on his way when Wade decides to keep moving his feet. "You don't have to help me _right now_ , but we better hurry because it seems like its going to rain." 

The way to his apartment is somewhat silent, with Wade and Peter just looking at each other, smiling timidly. They talk about Peter's bowling techniques and some insinuating jokes, although Wade tried not to, as if for the first time in his life, he really felt shy for his comments. 

Once they arrived, Peter took a deep breath and opened the door not only of his apartment, but of his own personal life, to Deadpool. To Wade. Smiling nervously and letting the mercenary in after having turned on the lights. 

"Welcome to mi casa," Peter says, extending his arms to encompass everything he wants to show, and then he drops them uncomfortably because he doesn't know what else to say, taking off his wet jacket. "Do you want tea or coffee?" 

"Coffee is fine," Wade says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Peter's dorkiness, and looks around covertly, smiling when he finds a picture of Peter with his aunt. 

"Oh!" Peter says, turning to Wade with shame. "Do you want me to lend you a shirt or something? I know I have a big one somewhere in here." 

Wade shakes his head, but Peter is already running to his room to look for something big enough for Wade. "If it's not much to ask, could you please plug in the coffee maker? I think I forgot to do it." 

"Sure," Wade says, walking to the kitchen, which is less than five steps from the living room. The place is small but cozy, it's cute, like its owner, with two windows, one facing the city and another facing the wall of a building. There's also a small TV screen in the middle of both windows, a coffee table that Wade is sure was a gift from Peter's aunt, and a cream-colored couch that matches the kitchen shelves. 

Once the coffee maker is on, Peter comes running and offers Wade a shirt with the logo of Stark Industries, to which Wade wants to wrinkle his face but decides to smile and raise an eyebrow. "It was some kind of gift from Mr. Stark for the first time I went to work with them," Peter says, scratching his head with an embarrassed smile. "They didn't have small ones, so they gave me that." 

Wade smiles and places the shirt in front of him, chuckling because it would fit Peter like a robe "Where's the bathroom, Baby boy?" 

"Oh, right!" Peter exclaims, pointing his finger at a door near the main entrance "It's that one, the one with the bad shower, and the only one that exists." 

Wade laughs, shakes his head and goes into the bathroom, watching as the light gets bright little by little; it’s probably going to need a bulb change soon. The design in the bathroom is white with blue tiles, quite clean, unlike Wade's. 

The shirt fits perfectly and Wade comes out to find Peter ready with both cups of coffee in hand. "I didn't put any sugar in, because I didn’t know how many spoonfuls you like, but here's the sugar if you want." 

"Thank you," Wade says, feeling strangely cozy and homely, a situation that he only feels when living with Al, and never with such a nice view, such as Peter in his new NASA sweater. 

"You look like a nerd," Wade says, to which Peter laughs and shrugs, sitting on the couch and looking for something to watch on Netflix. 

"Where's the lie?" The brunet says, making Wade laugh, who sits next to him after several spoons of sugar added to his coffee. "What would you like to see?" Peter asks, going through series and movies. "Something scary, action, romantic?" 

The brunet smiles playfully, looking at Wade out of the corner of his eye, who laughs heartily. "I'll see whatever you want to see." 

Peter sighs and lowers the remote control. "You shouldn't put that much pressure on me, my tastes in movies are pretty bad," while speaking, Peter gets a little closer to Wade, who of course decides not to ignore such a move. 

"Hm," Wade murmurs, looking at the screen and pointing with his head "How about that one? A work of art." 

Peter snorts and agrees, choosing The Room, because they have nothing to lose. When the movie begins, Wade slips an arm around Peter's shoulders, who blushes and decides to speak to distract himself. "Oh man, I just can't figure women out. Sometimes they're just too smart. Sometimes they're just flat-out stupid. Other times they're just evil." 

The sides of Wade's mouth lifts, but he suppresses his laughter. "It seems to me that you're the expert, Mark." 

Peter bites his lips, and shakes his head. "No. Definitely not an expert, Johnny." 

They both start laughing, while in the background Johnny starts talking, which makes them laugh even more. "God, I love this movie," Wade says, wiping his eyes and watching the screen. 

Peter nods and rests his head on Wade's left shoulder, who remains motionless for a moment. "I think he deserved an Oscar," Peter says, looking up and finding Wade's lips very close to his. Peter had planned many ways in which he could kiss Wade, even an interesting passionate kiss under the rain had crossed his mind as they walked towards his house, but his courage hadn't wanted to make an appearance. At least until now. 

Peter watches Wade's lips carefully, slowly moving his sight to meet a pair of blue eyes watching him anxiously, without moving, not even breathing for fear of making a mistake. "If I kiss you now, will you run away?" Peter asks, without moving. 

Wade shakes his head just a little, and lowers his gaze to Peter's lips "I'll try not to." 

"Okay," Peter whispers, and then, Peter’s kissing Wade; or Wade's kissing Peter. Then, they’re kissing each other, fast and hard, like they can’t get enough. Like Wade’s fresh air and Peter can’t seem to catch his breath and vice versa. They kiss like there isn’t anything left in the world, and there might as well won’t be. 

Wade’s lips are rough and cool against Peter's, pressing gently, _testing_ , making sure he's allowed to.

Peter's insides feel like they're on fire, but Wade's touches are soft and there's nothing else Peter can focus on except for Wade's tongue grazing his in tender curiosity. The mercenary's one hand is resting against Peter's cheek as the other runs up and down Peter's arm in a way that sends sparks coursing through Peter's whole body. 

They pull apart eventually, to catch their breaths, and look at each other with unfocused vision and panting breaths. 

Peter is almost on top of Wade's lap, at some point he got there and can't remember how, but instead of moving away, the brunet gets closer. Wade watches him silently, placing his hands on Peter's hips and not moving them from there. 

"I think the movie is almost over" Peter whispers, to which Wade chuckles and nods. 

"I think Lisa is already tearing Johnny apart." 

Peter laughs and nods, approaching the mercenary's face, who shortens the distance, giving him another kiss. This time the kiss is chaste, and Wade rests his forehead against Peter's, who bites his lip and moves a little on Wade's lap. "Hey um, do you wanna go to _my_ room?" 

Wade nods slowly, as if to realize that this is real, then stands up with Peter in his arms, which makes the brunet gasp. "Do you want me to turn off the TV?" Wade asks, and Peter responds by joining their lips together in a heated kiss. 

The mercenary leaves the movie playing and moves to Peter's room. There is no door hindering the way, just a large arch that leads to the small room. Once there, Wade leans down to place Peter on the bed while kissing him, lowering his mouth to Peter's jaw and the brunet pants. 

"You okay with this?" Wade asks, moving to kiss Peter's neck, who nods and takes the shirt he lent the mercenary between his fists. 

"Yeah." Peter whispers, pulling Wade's shirt up to his waist, where the mercenary stops him.

Wade looks at him this time, straight in the eye and unsure if he should let Peter continue with his task. "There's nothing good under this shirt," Wade warns, breathing hard and very seriously. "Trust me, these scars don’t change down there." 

"I think you're beautiful," Peter says, raising his head to kiss one of the scars on Wade's chin and continuing down to his neck. "I think all of you is beautiful." 

Peter begins to slowly pull the shirt off, leaving it at Wade's chest. "I'm not going to force you to take it off if you don't want to," the brunet says, looking Wade in the eye without moving his hands more than a few inches. "But you have to know that there is _nothing_ in you or your whole body that displeases me." 

Wade is silent for a while, looking at Peter's face and then down to where Peter's hands are. "Are you sure?" 

Peter nods, releasing Wade's shirt and lifting his own NASA sweater to throw it aside. "I don't want to be the only one who ends up naked." 

Wade laughs and shakes his head, kissing Peter again. He quickly takes off his own shirt, so he doesn't have much time to doubt it. Peter watches him and bites his lip, bringing his hands up to touch Wade's shoulders and lower them to his chest, Feeling each protuberance with his fingers and caressing the most affected areas. "Does it hurt?" 

"Sometimes," Wade mutters, and Peter decides it's not time to ask how they appeared, instead he raises one of his hands to Wade's neck, pulling the mercenary down until he is kissing him again. 

Wade begins to caress him, passing his calloused hands on Peter's sides and raising his hip to crawl in the middle of Peter's legs, who moans when the mercenary pushes his crotch against Peter's. Wade chuckles and starts to descend, licking Peter's collarbone and down his sternum. He kisses each part of his chest, biting his nipples, and down his stomach, to his hips. 

Peter moves under his touch, moaning and stroking Wade's head with both hands. The mercenary kisses his hip bone and begins to lower Peter's pants next to his boxers, releasing the brunet's blushing erection and licking his lips when observing the precum. 

He smiles up at Peter, and suckles the tip before taking him all the way. Peter’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins to pant out excitingly. Peter doesn't seem to be the quiet type in bed, and Wade loves it. Wade makes a little gagging noise which just spurs Peter on, and he begins to thrust into the tight heat of Wade’s mouth. The mercenary's tongue slides along the underside of his cock and Peter groans. Wade looks up at him desperately, mouth stretching prettily around his cock. 

Wade pulls off Peter before swallowing him whole again, bobbing his head in a slow, dragging way that Peter almost cums at. Wade doesn't admit it out loud, but he's really eager at this point, and his hands start fondling Peter’s balls. 

Wade's bobbing begins falling into a steady pace until Peter says, “I- I think I'm coming!” 

Peter thrusts fervently into his throat. His eyes roams over the beautiful man on his knees before pushing his cock past Wade’s throat to feel it flutter. The grip is hot and tight around him, and Peter tries to push in deeper. Wade responds by gripping Peter’s hips harder and pulling off to toy with Peter’s slit. Overwhelmed, Peter comes with a groan. Wade's mouth doesn't catch all of it, and Peter watches through half lidded eyes as his cum splatters on Wade's face. 

The mercenary swallows what he can and wipes the remnants off his face with his fingers. Wade then crawls on top of Peter's lap. He slowly slips a finger into Peter's mouth, and the brunet sucks it for all its worth. With the cum on it, it almost looks like a cock inside that pretty mouth. 

Before Peter could suck in the others, Wade pulls him into a deep, tantalizing kiss.

When Wade thinks there's enough slick on his fingers, he places one of them in Peter's entrance, looking at the brunet and waiting for permission. Peter smiles breathily and nods, giving Wade's lips a chaste kiss. 

"You sure?" Wade asks, still giving Peter time to repent, but Peter slides his own hand in the middle of his body, and takes Wade's between his, sliding in easily two fingers to stretch his hole. 

Peter relaxes easily enough, already used to the sensation. Moaning, Peter thrusts back on those coated fingers, and Wade humms, sucking along the jut of Peter’s jawline. He licks at the brunet’s fluttering pulse point, placing a third digit which jolts Peter back to reality. 

Peter brings his hands up to Wade’s hips, his fingers digging in as he clings to his body, trying to push away his jeans. One of Wade’s hands drags through Peter’s thick, oak colored hair and he startles when Peter moans against his lips. "Take this off to," the brunet says, breathlessly. 

Wade's starved senses were being stimulated mercilessly, the taste of Peter’s mouth on his, the heavy breaths in his ear, the burning touch all over his neglected skin. It was all overwhelming, too much. Wade stopped to take a deep breath on Peter's shoulder, rubbing his face over the brunet's body to understand how real all this was; how much Peter wanted to be with him and how not to long ago Wade didn't feel like Peter did. 

Peter's dick is swollen and flushed, raised veins clearly visible beneath the thin pale of his skin. His cheeks have nice spots of crimson on them while his eyes are dark and glazed. _And it's all for him_. Wade smiles and runs his tongue over Peter's lips, chasing the flavor of the grin that spreads on Peter's mouth, and diving in when swollen lips parted in a startled gasp when Wade removes his fingers. 

"Do you have condoms and lube?" Wade asks, shoving his jeans to mid-thigh, and freeing his own aching erection. 

Peter nods and gets up to look inside his nightstand, throwing both the bottle and a package on to the bed. "Hurry," he says, biting his lip when he sees Wade's dick. 

The mercenary laughs, flips the cap on the lube, opening it up to smear a bit on his cock before pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it on. Slicking the rubber, he grips the base of his erection. Peter lays back on the bed in front of Wade, who taps his cock a few times against Peter's swollen and soft hole. Teasing his body just a little more. Just to make sure Peter is completely sure about this. 

"It's okay," Peter whispers, stroking Wade's arm. "I want this." 

Wade nods "Okay," he says, breathing deeply and pushing the tip of his cock into Peter's entrance, who bites his lip, contracting his toes. "You good?" The mercenary asks, not entering completely yet. 

Peter nods and gasps "Yes, please continue." 

When Wade begins to push with the same delicacy, Peter decides to simply lower his hips until he feels Wade's balls against his ass. Peter moans and Wade gasps, chuckling against Peter's shoulder. "Fuck, Baby boy, you're going to kill me." 

"You were taking so long," Peter says, smiling breathlessly. 

Wade stays like this for a moment, until his hips start to move and Peter feels like every bone and joint in his body clicks into place at the sensation of Wade inside him, so deep. Wade's hips are pressed against Peter's ass and that’s enough. Peter can rock himself forward on his elbows and back onto Wade's cock, moaning at the sensations. 

They start out like that, slow and hard, speeding up as they go. Wade’s clutching Peter to him, his chest melded to Peter's own, sweat breaking out between their bodies and his hips are hammering against the brunet’s ass, his dick raking over Peter’s prostate over and over again. 

Wade groans into his shoulder and then there are Peter’s nails scratching across his skin, leaving fire in their wake and _fuck_. Wade helds off his own orgasm by sheer force of will as Peter curses under his breath. He leans forward to kiss and lick, tasting the faint salt of Peter's sweat, and breathing in the perfect scent of him. 

Wade starts to move faster, panting as his orgasm begins to grow and his cock continues to rub against Peter's sweet spot, who makes a content noise in the back of his throat that is completely involuntary. 

"I'm coming" Wade announces, clenching his jaw and gripping Peter’s hips as he comes, pulling him back onto his cock as it spurts. 

Peter follows close behind, his own catalyst being Wade’s expression as streaks of sperm paint his skin all the way up to his chest as he releases. 

They both stay a moment like this, recovering their breaths. Peter caresses Wade's back as he looks at the ceiling and chuckles, it's been a long time, if ever, that Peter hadn't experienced an orgasm like that. "That was amazing," he says. 

Wade laughs at his side, and pulls out, making the two hiss at the emptiness. Then, he lies on the bed with Peter and continues smiling. "More than amazing, you were perfect." 

"I know," Peter says, making them both laugh. 

Then the two remain silent, while Peter stands up to look for a towel, so the both can get cleaned up. Wade pulls out the condom, tying it and throwing it in the trash, before laying back on the bed to observe Peter, sleepy, with a very real smile on his face. Peter moves to the bathroom to wet the towel and wipe his entire body, returning to do the same with Wade, who looks at him, extending a hand to Peter's face to move a strand of hair from his face. 

"Thank you," the mercenary says. 

Peter smiles and nods. "You're welcome. I assumed you were tired, so I took the liberty to cleanse you." 

Wade shakes his head and lets out a breathy laugh. "Not only for this, but for everything." 

Peter smiles again and leaves the towel aside. He lies next to Wade and covering them both with his blankets. Then, he hugs the mercenary and sighs again. "Nah, thank _you_ for trusting me." 

Wade spoons Peter with his arms and closes his eyes "I think I'll stay for tonight, okay?" 

"Mmm," Peter replies. 

~°~ 

The next morning, after a good breakfast and another round of sex, Wade decides to help Peter fix his shower, even though the brunet knows very well how to fix things. While they are doing this, Wade comes out of the shower and can't find anything to get dry. 

"Pete, do you have more towels than the ones you used yesterday?" 

Peter laughs and pokes his head through the bathroom curtain "I probably have a pair of clean ones in my closet." 

Wade kisses him and leaves the bathroom. He walks to the brunet's room, stretching his back and sighs, relaxed. 

The mercenary enters the room and opens the closet, accidentally dropping something at his feet. Wade is about to pick it up, when his eyes really observe what is on the floor, with surprise, astonishment, and some satisfaction. 

Wade raises the object at eye level to study the red and blue suit with a spider spun in the center, a chuckle escaping his mouth. 

"Uh, Baby boy." 

"Yeah?" Peter asks from the shower. 

"I think we need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading (I'm sick so I'll probably fall into bed right away lol)
> 
> but I hope you liked it <3


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